


Crumpled Flowers

by thevegetarianbisexual



Category: Falsettos - Lapine/Finn
Genre: Death, Hurt, Other, i dont know why i wrote this, sorry - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-16
Updated: 2021-02-16
Packaged: 2021-03-17 23:07:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,194
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29358468
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thevegetarianbisexual/pseuds/thevegetarianbisexual
Summary: Jason goes to the cemetery (don't hate me, I will go back to my regular scheduled fluff programing soon.)
Relationships: Jason & Mendel Weisenbachfeld
Comments: 6
Kudos: 17





	Crumpled Flowers

A 15-year-old boy walks the empty clouded streets of New York a little after dawn. The oversized brown leather jacket covering his thin frame does a poor job at blocking away the cold wind. He stuffs his hands in his pocket and walks to a small shop. 

“Jason! Hello, my boy, wow you’re here early. What can I do for you?” An older man greets the boy from the counter as soon as he walks into the warm store. The boy does his best to smile at the man but he’s sure that it comes off more as a grimace. The man, used to the boy’s personality, simply chuckles and waits for the boy to respond.

Jason looks around, his sunken eyes searching for something unknown to the rest of world, maybe even to himself. 

Finally, he speaks up, “just 3 flower bouquets. Please.”

The man furrows his brows for a split second but then simply nods and reaches for the bouquets to his left. Knowing Jason was not one to converse in small talk he silently wraps them in plastic sheets, the crinkling noise filling the boy’s ears. He stares at the walls of the shop, avoiding the eyes of the older man.

“All done! That’ll be 8.99.”

He reaches into his pocket and pulls out a balled-up handful of different bills. He somehow manages to find a Hamilton in the bunch and hands it to the man.

“Keep the change, Richard.” He says as he picks the flowers off the counter and walks towards the door.

“Thanks kid! Enjoy!” Richard calls out.

Enjoy.

_Enjoy._

The word echoes in his head as he walks down the street, holding the bouquets against his chest. He forgets to be careful with them and unknowingly squishes a few flowers in his tight grip. His breathing becomes shallow as he fights the wind and swarms of people beginning to leave their apartments. He finds himself in a street he does not recognize, which is strange as he’s lived in New York his entire life. He stands and watches as people walk by, a tear falling down his cheek.

How can the world move on so simply, so naturally, when he is still in pain? When they are gone?

The sun still rose and fell every morning and evening, nothing stops the world from turning, he has come to realize.

He feels someone slam into his side, not unusual when one stands in the middle of the sidewalk “Hey kid, move out of the way!” He hears them yell. He closes his eyes, he just wants to be left alone. “Are you lost or something?” The voice said, surprising Jason.

“No, I’m just on my way to Mt Zion Cemetery” He squeaks, slightly frightened.

He looks up at the man and he watches as his face softens; he wishes people didn’t pity him. “Well you’re on the wrong side of town, kid. My father was buried there last year, walk the street as far it takes you then you should take the 51st. Walk until you get to an intersection where 51st street changes into Maurice follow that and eventually you should be at the gates of the cemetery. All right?”

Jason simply nods, vaguely remembering the gates from the last time he visited. The man pats him on the arm and moves on with his day leaving the boy on his own again.

Jason takes a deep breath and begins walking in the opposite direction, reminding himself of what the man said. Just follow the street.

As he begins to pass by familiar shops and buildings, he becomes one with the crowd of people all whom are on their separate tiny journeys to their jobs or errands.

He sees a sign that says 51st avenue and follows it just as the man said. He walks down a neighborhood, hoping he’s going in the right direction. The flowers in his arms become more squished and torn by the second; petals begin to fly from the stems, leaving a trail behind Jason.

Finally, he sees another sign indicating that he is still on 51st and crosses the street towards Maurice, in his line of vision he begins to see the cemetery. He releases a breath of relief and walks faster. He follows down the green gates and rushes towards the entrance. As he walks down the path he notices a figure from afar. He wonders who else would be at the cemetery at 7am. The figure begins to walk towards Jason and Jason starts to panic. He wonders if he should just run in the other direction but before could leave he realizes who the figure is. Mendel or what’s left of his shell is walking towards him.

The man looks completely disheveled, his hair is unkept and he seemingly put on his clothing in a hurry. His eyes are wide with both fear and relief, his hands reach for the boy as soon as he gets close enough, pulling him into a tight hug. The flowers in boy’s arms get further damaged.

“Jason, buddy, I know you’re old enough to be responsible for yourself, but you can’t just leave without saying anything. I was so scared when I realized you were gone this morning. You have to leave a note or something, please bud. For my sanity.” Mendel says running a hand through the boy’s unkept curls.

Jason pulls away from the hug and nods. “Sorry, I couldn’t sleep,” is all he can say, he feels slightly guilty but he couldn't stay at the house any longer. Mendel nods in understanding “me neither, bud, me neither.”

They both begin to walk further into the cemetery, passing by gravestones, some new, some old, but all unsettling.

Everyone here used to roam the earth, they danced under the sun. Now they only live on in memories, that is, if they’re lucky enough.

The pair stop in front of three grave stones. Jason takes a breath as he lays a bouquet of the crumpled flowers in front of each stone.

_In Loving Memory of_

_Whizzer Brown_

_May 30, 1951- October 23, 1981_

_A lover, a father, and a friend_

_In Loving Memory of_

_Marvin Gardens_

_January 13, 1948- October 23, 1982_

_A lover, a father and a friend_

_In Loving Memory of_

_Trina_ _Weisenbachfeld_

_September 9, 1948-November 23, 1982_

_A wife, a mother, and a friend_

A tear runs down the boy’s face but he quickly wipes it away. It’s been two years to the date since Whizzer’s death, one year later his father took his life, and a month later so did his mother.

“Happy birthday, Jason” Mendel whispers as he holds on to the boys trembling shoulders. A sob escapes the man’s lips and the boy does his best to keep them both up float. It’s what he must do. 

The clouds part and the sun completely rises over the pair, almost as to shed a light on the dark world they must travel on their own. There is nothing either of them can do except travel and hope that one day they'll reunite again. 

**Author's Note:**

> This was quite upsetting to write, not sure why I wrote it as I promised myself I'd never write anything that was not fluff. You can blame my computer for deleting a story I was suppose to post a week ago (don't worry I'm rewriting it and it will be up by Sunday (i hope)) and tumblr. Specifically this post
> 
> https://incorrect-life-of-me.tumblr.com/post/642289885802364928/what-makes-you-sad-in-life-is-it-death-is-it-how
> 
> oh yeah I'm on tumblr now, i post absolute nonsense if you'd like to follow me there (same username) 
> 
> Any who see you next time.


End file.
